


The color of your eyes

by GabyGBlondie



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Blind Character, Community: makinghugospin, Fluff, M/M, Please be nice, Prompt Fill, blind!jehan, first fic i ever post
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-22
Updated: 2013-08-22
Packaged: 2017-12-24 06:47:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/936663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GabyGBlondie/pseuds/GabyGBlondie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jehan has been born blind. But he still wants to know what color his boyfriend's eyes are.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The color of your eyes

**Author's Note:**

> Fic to fill this prompt: "Jehan is blind and always has been, and another ami must try and explain color to him."
> 
> My first time writing a blind character and my first time writing Jehan/Courfeyrac!
> 
> Hope you enjoy it :)

Jehan Prouvaire can feel the sun rays that start to invade his bedroom. He can also feel Courfeyrac’s strong arms wrapped around his waist, hear the soft breathing of his boyfriend and feel his marvelous scent. But he doesn’t open his eyes. Because it’s pointless. It has always been pointless.  
Jehan was born blind. He had never seen anything. Not the stars shining above. Not the rainbow that he loved to hear Judy Garland singing about. Not the soft lips of his boyfriend, which fit perfectly against his. He doesn’t exactly miss it, though. After all, how can one miss something he never knew?  
“Fey?” He murmurs, and a soft sigh comes in response. He can’t be sure if that is a real answer, though. So he pushes it a little bit. “Are you up?”  
“Kinda.” Courfeyrac murmurs back, sleepily, and Jehan smiles.  
He knows Courfeyrac’s body by heart now, so he knows exactly where is that spot between his neck and his shoulder that he likes to rest his head. And he does so, feeling the warmth that comes from his boyfriend, the softness of his old T-shirt fabric, and in that moment there’s only one thing missing for it to be perfect. Something he needs to know.  
“Can I ask you a question?” Jehan says, and just then realized he just asked a question. How silly of him. But he hears Fey’s soft chuckle, and feels as he runs a hand through his braided hair.  
“Course you can, little poet.” He answers, his voice still hoarse from sleep.  
The first thing that made Jehan notice Courfeyrac was his voice. It was deep and strong, but at the same time light-hearted and cheerful. Jehan knew much about voices, because they were the best way he had to recognize people, and yet Courfeyrac’s voice had confused him. And from confusion to love was not that big of a step.  
“What… What colors are your eyes?” He says, and immediately feels Courfeyrac tensing with surprise.  
Jehan doesn’t blame him; of course that it seems a senseless question. But it’s just… He asked Cosette to describe her boyfriend to him and she spent a long time talking about his warm brown eyes. And Jehan wants to at least know the color of his boyfriend’s eyes. It feels important.  
“My eyes?” He asked, and Jehan hears confusion and amusement in her voice. “They are blue, darling.”  
Blue. Jehan has heard about blue eyes all his life. One of Grantaire’s favorite songs is entirely dedicated to blue eyes. But he has no idea of what that means. He knows it’s supposed to be beautiful, but he wants to know more.  
“And what is blue like?” He asks in a whisper, running a hand on Courfeyrac’s cheek, letting his fingers explore his soft and warm skin. Suddenly he felt the strong grip of Courfeyrac’s hand on his, and a soft kiss being planted on the back of his hand.  
“Blue… God, honey, I never thought about that.” He says, and Jehan didn’t see why Courfeyrac would have thought about that, anyway. After all, he could see how blue was.  
“That’s okay, honey, it was a silly question anyway. Forget about it.” He says, already regretting saying anything in the first place, because Courfeyrac will spend the rest of the day feeling guilty for something he hadn’t done. As Jehan already told him many times, it’s not his fault that he can see while Jehan can’t.  
“No, I’ve got it!” He exclaims, and Jehan can hear that excitement he loves so much on Courfeyrac’s voice. “You know when we go spend the day in the countryside and it’s too hot? And then you go swim on the lake?”  
“Yes.” Jehan answers, not exactly sure of where this conversation is taking them.  
“You know that feeling you have when you’re in the water? That it’s cool and fresh and light? And that… That you can relax and trust in the water?”  
Jehan smiles, remembering the countless summer afternoons they’ve spent on the countryside, having picnics and swimming and making love at the sunset. Courfeyrac is right, that is exactly the feeling he has when he’s in the lake; that nothing’s going to hurt them, ever, because the water won’t let it happen.  
“Yes.” He answers with a smile, feeling the soft touch of Courfeyrac’s fingers that are exploring his face.  
“Sweetie, that’s what blue is like.”  
It makes sense, Jehan thinks. Were he able to look into Courfeyrac’s eyes, he’s sure that this is exactly like he would feel. Safe and relaxed. Yes, of course Courfeyrac’s eyes would be like water.  
“Then your eyes are beautiful.” He whispers, getting himself closer to Courfeyrac, burying his head on his chest. His boyfriend chuckles, and Jehan loves the way his chest vibrates with it.  
“Not as beautiful as yours, honey.” Courfeyrac answers, kissing the top of his head. This makes Jehan wonder, and the question gets to his mouth before he can even think about it.  
“What are my eyes like?” He asks, and feels his boyfriend tensing again. He can bet it’s from guilt, and he knows they’ll need to have another conversation about this later. But, right now, he just wants Courfeyrac to answer his question.  
“Well, they’re not blue. They are… They are brown, Jehan.” Courfeyrac says, and Jehan is about to ask what brown is like when he continues. “Brown is actually one of my favorite colors. It’s the color of the land where you plant your roses. And, more important, it’s the color of chocolate.”  
That makes Jehan laugh. Of course Courfeyrac would love the color of chocolate, he is a chocoholic after all. But Jehan likes to know his eyes looks so… Delicious. That’s the only word he can think of to describe brown, if that’s the color of chocolate.  
“So my eyes look like chocolate?” He asks in an amused tone, and feels as Courfeyrac gently raises his chin with two fingers and kisses his lips. He kisses him back, gently.  
“Yes, they do. Perhaps that’s why I love chocolate so much.”  
“Hm, no.” Jehan says, holding back a smirk. He’s pretty sure Courfeyrac has a confused expression. “I think that’s why you love me so much. Chocolate comes first to you, I just know it.”  
“Aren’t you a cheeky little being?” Courfeyrac asks, tickling his side.  
Jehan squirms a little, giggling, and wraps his arms around Courfeyrac’s neck, sighing. They stay silent for a while, and Jehan feels as Courfeyrac untangles the knots in his hair. It feels good, just to be close like this.  
“Say, is there any other color you want me to explain to you?” Courfeyrac asks. Jehan hums, kissing his lips.  
“Yes. Not now, though.”  
And it’s true. Jehan wants Courfeyrac to tell him about green, yellow, red, pink, purple and any other colors that might exist. But little by little. Maybe two colors by morning.  
They have all the time in the world, after all.


End file.
